Growing Up in Storybrooke
by Andi88
Summary: "I was the weird one. I was the only one who got taller. The only one who went from kindergarten to first grade, then to second. I was a freak. Like a reversed Peter Pan."
1. Chapter 1

**Hello again, lovely readers! So man...was last week's episode intense or what? It answered a lot of questions I've had since the beginning about what the curse was like in the beginning, what they're lives were like before Emma strolled in, and what made Regina want a son. The effects of Welcome to Storybrooke have led to this, a story in three parts from Henry's POV about what life growing up as the only non-cursed person in Storybrooke was like. I wonder if they'll ever do another flashback episode and explain how he came to the conclusion the town was cursed. In the meantime, this is my take! Enjoy!**

* * *

**Growing Up in Storybrooke, Part 1**

I figured out that I was adopted when I was 8.

I talked back to my mom one night, and she took away my comic book. I really wasn't trying to be bad the afternoon I went looking for it, but it had been three days and she normally gave them back after three days. She was hardly ever around then, though, always at her office, always acting all antsy and annoyed, not like how she used to be.

She used to be fun, warm, even silly sometimes, but only for me. I realized when I was really little that my mom's warmth was only for me, no one else. To everyone else, she was a completely different person. Cold, mean, and always sarcastic. And she wondered why I developed a smart mouth so early on.

There were always good days and bad days with my mom growing up. There would be some days when she would just randomly shut me out, not even speak to me, and I never knew why. But then the next day she'd take me out for ice cream and let me stay up late to watch a movie with her. As I got older, though, the good days got fewer and fewer and the bad days came more often. I just knew it was because I was a bad boy, and I tried to be good for her, I _did_, but sometimes it was hard.

I was convinced that I had a right to get my comic book back, though, and she wasn't home. She hardly ever was those days, and I figured since she'd already forgotten about it, she wouldn't notice if I just took it.

Mom didn't like others in her personal space, even me. So the only room of the house I never went in to unless she was there was her room. Stepping inside I realized that I couldn't remember the last time I'd been in there. It must have been the last time she let me crawl into bed with her after a nightmare. But that was years ago.

I walked around the room for a moment uncertainly. Everything was perfectly in place, and I knew good and well that disturbing even one of her many perfume bottles wouldn't go unnoticed.

I timidly opened a few of the drawers of her dresser, finding only clothes. I kept poking, slowly losing my nerve, but just kept telling myself, "one more drawer."

Just when I was about to give up, I opened her closet and saw a small box on the high shelf, and it had my name on it.

I ran downstairs to the garage and found our stepladder, and hurried back to her room to snatch the box down.

I took it over to the bed and opened it. Right there at the top was my comic book, but that wasn't all. The box was filled with things of mine, baby things mostly. There was a small pouch that held fuzzy blonde hair...mine from my first haircut, I guess. I was blonde back then?

There were a few drawings of mine, and I sniggered at how bad I was at drawing back then. There was one picture of Mom that I remembered drawing. I remembered she cried for some reason, and it baffled me. I drew her as a queen, why would that make her cry?

I smiled at the little memories, feeling kind of happy that my mom kept it all. Those days I sometimes felt like she didn't even care about me. This proved that she did, right?

But there, at the bottom of the box, were two pieces of paper that weren't bad drawings. One said, "adoption," and even though I was 8, I knew full well what that meant.

The other was my birth certificate, and I knew what that was too. At least I assumed it was mine, even though where my name should have been only said "Baby Boy," and the place for my mother's name didn't say, "Regina Mills."

It said "Emma Swan."

I don't know how long I stared at that name. I wanted to make sure I didn't forget it, but at the same time I knew from the moment I saw the letters, it was like that name was burned into me.

Slowly, numbly, I placed my birth certificate back into the box, followed by the adoption papers, which I vaguely registered my mom's name on, along with all the other items, including my comic book.

I took an extra-long amount of time to make sure my presence in Mom's room wouldn't be noticed, took the ladder back to the garage, and went to my room.

* * *

_Emma Swan. Emma Swan. Emma._

I chanted her name in my head over, and over, and over.

Why didn't my mom tell me that I was adopted?

And what was more...why didn't my _real_ mom want me?

If Mom noticed that I wasn't speaking to her, or to anyone really, she didn't say anything. For weeks all I could think about was Emma Swan. What did she look like? Did I look like her? What about my dad...his name wasn't on the certificate.

There was no one really for me to talk to. I didn't really have any friends, but it was hard to make friends when you were always changing, growing, moving on to higher grades and everyone else stayed where they were.

But that was normal, right? I was the weird one. I was the only one who got taller. The only one who went from kindergarten to first grade, then to second. I was a freak. Like a reversed Peter Pan.

"Mom?" I asked when I was 6 years old. "Why do I have to go to first grade when Tom and all my friends get to stay in kindergarten?"

Mom smiled. "Because you're smarter than them, sweetie. You're special. They're just not bright enough to move on."

I guess they really weren't, because Tom didn't move on the next year either. No one did. Just me. I used to try to ask kids about it, but they would just give me weird or dirty looks, so I stopped asking. I even tried to ask my teachers, but they just looked at me like I was crazy, so sometimes...I wondered if I was.

After finding my birth certificate though, I started wondering about it all again. I mean, I watched TV (sometimes, when I my let me,) and I went online. I saw other people, other places...and in those places things changed. On The Suite Life of Zack and Cody, all of the kids grew up just like me, and every day was different for them.

But in Storybrooke, it was like everything was on repeat, and once I started paying close attention, it was impossible not to notice.

Every morning we had breakfast at Granny's, and every morning Granny yelled at her granddaughter Ruby about staying out too late the night before, usually saying something about eggs being over easy, but I never got the joke.

Every morning the door to the school bus would stick, and the bus driver would complain about it. Sometimes I suggested he get it fixed, and every time he'd say he'd do it tomorrow. It never got fixed.

"Mom, am I weird?" I asked at dinner one night, one of the few she was actually home early enough for.

"Why would you ask that, sweetie?"

I shrugged. "It's just...why do I have to learn the exact same thing in school every day, only for you to have extra schoolwork waiting for me at home?"

Mom chuckled. "Oh, Henry, we've talked about this. You're smarter than all the other kids in school; they need the repetition so they can learn. I only give you extra work since you're so bright. Now, if you'd rather not go to school, I can get you that tutor..."

"No!" I exclaimed. She'd offered before to let me be taught at home, but as boring as school was, I couldn't give up the only time I was allowed to be with people other than my mom. "No, I like school. It's just that everything in this town stays the same."

A look flashed across my mom's face, one I couldn't even begin to understand. "I know what you mean," she said carefully. "I feel that way sometimes too."

Hope bloomed in my chest. She understood! So maybe I wasn't crazy! "Really?! You do?"

"Mmhmm, I think that's just part of being in a small town, though. Everything is just so simple, it just _seems_ like nothing changes because it happens so slowly."

My shoulders slumped. She didn't understand after all. Things weren't changed _slowly_ they weren't changing _at all_.

* * *

The next week, my mom sent me to Dr. Hopper for the first time. At first I was scared, because don't people only go to psychiatrists when they're crazy? But after a few visits I started really looking forward to it.

Dr. Hopper didn't understand what I meant about the town changing either, but at least he didn't make excuses about it, he just let me talk it out.

"Why do you feel like you're the only one growing, Henry?"

I sighed. "Because I AM the only one growing. Tom was my friend in kindergarten, and now that I'm in second grade, he's still in the same class!"

Dr. Hopper got _that_ look on his face. I called it the Space Face. It was the same expression everyone made when I asked questions. Like, I asked Granny if she'd ever been anywhere beside Storybrooke, and she made a Space Face before telling me that she'd been to Germany as a child.

Dr. Hopper put on his Space Face for a second before telling me that he thought Tom was younger than me.

Dr. Hopper wasn't trying to fool me, I could tell. Dr. Hopper _never _lied. He just really didn't know.

* * *

When I was 9, I got into a fight with my mom, over TV, of all things, and screamed at her that she wasn't my _real _mom.

"What?" she gasped. "Why would you say such a thing?"

"I saw my birth certificate," I spat. "And my adoption papers."

"Henry listen to me," she knelt down, and gently took my shoulders. "Just because I didn't give birth to you, doesn't mean that I love you any less. If anything, it makes me love you _more _because you're such a precious gift to me! I love you, Henry, you're _my _son. Nothing will ever change that!"

And I believed her, at least then I did. Honestly, I really didn't care that she wasn't my real mom. She was my _mom_.

Maybe if she had stopped pulling away from me after that, I would never have wanted to find my real mom. But after that she was colder than ever. Sometimes I felt like she was...waiting for something. Something she was dreading, something she didn't want to happen, but kind of knew it would.

I was probably the only person in the world who could tell that Regina Mills was scared. Of what? I had no idea.

* * *

The year I went into 4th grade, Mom almost forced me to start homeschool. I was adamant though, and since we'd been fighting so much lately, she gave in and let me go. I couldn't for the life of me figure out what she had against my 4th grade teacher, Miss Blanchard, but whenever she saw the quiet, sweet woman she all but growled.

"I don't trust her," she mumbled on the walk to school the first day.

"Why?" I asked. I had only met Miss Blanchard once at open house, and though she seemed nice to me, I was fully willing to believe Mom's reasons to be against her.

"She's..." Mom furrowed her eyebrows. "She's just not trustworthy."

Well that wasn't reason enough for me, and I quickly found that Miss Blanchard was my favorite teacher ever.

Even though she, like all my teachers before, taught the same thing day in and day out, she somehow managed to make it interesting every day.

Even though I felt like I could make a birdhouse in my sleep within the first month, I still somehow sat in rapt attention when she talked about how if you love a bird, and it loves you, it will always find you.

Always find you...there was something about that I liked.

I became an unashamed teacher's pet, especially since I didn't really have friends; I didn't worry about getting teased. Miss Blanchard had seemed surprised when she learned I was in her class at open house, and I knew it was because she was afraid of my mom. But soon she was giving me the warmest smile every morning, as if she was just as happy to see me as I was to see her. As if I was special, and not just crazy.

Miss Blanchard dismissed us for lunch one afternoon. "No running!" she called, like always. "Henry, can you stay just a second?" not like always. "Is everything okay? You've been really quiet today."

I shrugged. "Do you ever get the feeling that there's something weird about this town?"

Space Face. "Um...no. I mean, small towns have their quirks, certainly!"

I sighed, unwilling to push it further. I didn't think I couldn't handle it if Miss Blanchard looked at me like I was crazy too, even though in my heart I didn't think she ever would.

"Did you know I'm adopted?"

She took a deep breath. "Yeah, I know. I didn't know you did."

I shrugged again. "I found out a couple years ago. My mother's name was Emma Swan."

A look crossed Miss Blanchard's face, but it wasn't the Space Face, it was something else entirely.

"Did you know her?" I asked.

She shook her head. "No, sorry, you arrived here from out of state."

I sat down in a chair near her desk, lunch nowhere on my mind. Never before had anyone, not even Dr. Hopper told me anything about my adoption at all.

"Was I just a baby?"

"Yeah, a newborn. You were so cute too!"

I grinned. "I don't ever remember ever really meeting you before you became my teacher."

"Oh, well, I only ever saw you in passing. Your mom was very protective; she wouldn't let anyone else hold you or anything."

I frowned, getting a funny feeling that Miss Blanchard had really _wanted _to hold me when I was a baby.

"But I just don't understand," I knew I had decided not to push it, but things just weren't making sense. "You know Mrs. Shoemaker's baby?"

Miss Blanchard nodded.

"She's been a baby for as long as I can remember, but I didn't stay a baby. I grew up!"

There was that Space Face again. "I...I don't...I don't know, Henry."

She looked like she was starting to get worried, and that kind of scared me, so I changed the subject. "Sometimes I think since now that I know Mom isn't my real mom, she doesn't love me as much."

Miss Blanchard's face fell. "Oh, honey, I know that isn't true. Madame Mayor is...well, I think it's difficult for her to show what she's really feeling. I think maybe she was hurt, in the past. But I know she loves you, Henry, maybe right now she's just having a hard time showing it."

"Maybe," I said, and then sat down at my desk to eat my lunch. To cheer me up, Miss Blanchard sat backwards at the desk in front of me and we made castles out of my pretzel sticks, and then had a tiny sword fight with some of them.

"How come you don't have any kids, Miss Blanchard?" I asked. "You'd be a great mom."

I could never explain how crushed Miss Blanchard looked just then. I scrambled for words to take away the one's I'd said, but there were none.

"I'm sorry...I..."

She put a hand on mine. "Oh, there's nothing to be sorry about, I would love to have children someday. It just isn't...time yet."

Feeling a bit more relaxed again, I asked, "Would you want a girl or a boy?"

She chuckled and squeezed my hand. "Well I'd certainly love a little boy like you! But...I think first, I'd like a girl," she looked dazed for a second, before smiling and shaking her head. "But first I have to work on finding that Prince Charming!"

I laughed, and we started sword fighting again.

* * *

The next day I bumped into my friend, Tom. He had been the only best friend I'd ever had, we would play knights and dragons, and we would rescue damsels in distress, or pretend we were only an inch tall and crawl through the high grass.

"Hi Tom," I said, smiling down at him. He used to be bigger than me, since I was kind of a puny kid and he was tall and large for his age, but now I towered over him.

"Hi Henry!" he said excitedly. "We made handprints in class today!"

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, I know, I did that too, remember?"

Blink. "Oh yeah, when you were little like me."

He didn't seem to notice that I grew up without him.

"Do you wanna play pretend today?" he asked me. "We can play like we're bugs!"

"Uh, no thanks," I didn't really like playing that game anymore, especially since I was too big to crawl into some of the places we used to.

"Come on, Tom!" my old kindergarten teacher called, and Tom shuffled away with his class.

This was why I couldn't make friends. I would always grow and pass them, moving on and changing, and they never would. It just didn't seem fair.

What was wrong with me?

* * *

"Henry," Miss Blanchard said one day after the bell had rung. "Do you have a minute?"

I smiled and walked to her desk. I'd started walking home by myself, so I didn't have to worry about Mom waiting on me. "What's up?" I asked.

She grinned excitedly. "The birdhouse you made today was exceptional! I didn't want to say this in front of the rest of the class, but it was by far the best!"

I half smiled and fidgeted uncomfortably. My first birdhouse had been awful, but I got better eventually. It bothered me though, like it always did, when I seemed to be the only person who thought we made birdhouses every day. It scared me when other's brought things up like it was the first time it ever happened, because I was the only one who thought otherwise.

"But that isn't why I called you over," Miss Blanchard said was the wave of her hand. She was much more at ease with me than anyone else. From what I'd seen, I was the only person she spoke to in anything above a timid whisper. "I have something for you."

That perked me up. "Really?"

Miss Blanchard smirked with the most uncharacteristic mischief I'd ever seen in her, lighting her up in way that made her seem like an entirely different person, and pulled a giant book out from under her desk.

With a thunk, the enormous leather-bound book landed on the surface of her desk. I leaned forward to peer at the shiny gold letters. "Once Upon a Time?"

She nodded, still smiling. "I came across it in Mr. Gold's shop. I'm surprised with myself for even being brave enough to go in there! But I saw this, and just couldn't resist. It's a book about fairy tales, the ones we all know but they're _better_. I want you to have it."

"Really?" I gingerly picked it up. It was as heavy as it looked. "For me?"

"Now, before you tell me that you're too old for fairy tales, let me just tell you that I read the stories in here myself. They're really exciting. There are sword fights, and good versus evil! And the good always triumphs..." she blinked a few times. "Good always wins, always finds the happy ending...and well, there's romance too," I rolled my eyes and she giggled. "With kisses that break curses! Just give it a try."

I held the book to my chest, more excited about it being a gift from Miss Blanchard than the book itself. But I did love to read, so I thanked her several times and ran home.

* * *

Once home, I rushed to finish my chores and homework, then I ran to my room to crack open the book. The first story was about Snow White, but it was a lot different than the Disney one I was used to. For starters, this Snow White was tough, and funny too. After being banished by the Evil Queen and spared by the Huntsman, Snow White became a warrior, not just a flippy wimp who relied solely on dwarfs. She brandished a bow and arrow, she stole from royals, she gave her prince the nick-name Charming just to annoy him. She was awesome!

What was hard to get over was how much the picture of Snow White looked like Miss Blanchard. Especially after seeing that playful look in her eyes that day, because it was the same look Snow White was giving Prince Charming from the net he'd ensnared her in in the picture.

I had to stop reading once Mom came home, and I stuffed the book under my pillow. I was suddenly afraid she'd take it away for some reason, if nothing else then because Miss Blanchard gave it to me.

We spoke little at dinner, and I took myself to bed. I waited until I heard the front door open and shut late that night to start reading again. I don't know why Mom didn't think I knew that Sheriff Graham came over almost every night, but she tried awful hard to hide it. I was 10 though, not stupid, and I knew he came over to kiss and stuff. I didn't know what "and stuff" was, but I was happy not knowing.

I read that night until my eyes burned and drooped, then spent the entire next day, which was Saturday, in my castle at the park with my nose buried in the pages.

It wasn't just Miss Blanchard. Red Riding Hood was so much like Ruby I was astounded Miss Blanchard hadn't noticed. She even had a Granny just like Ruby. The Huntsman in the pictures looked _just _like Graham.

I read about Snow White's friends, the dwarfs, and between their descriptions and pictures, I was eventually able to match each one up to guys I knew in Storybrooke. Leroy was the easiest. He just sort of screamed "Grumpy."

The most unbelievable, though, was Snow White's stepmother, the Evil Queen.

In the book, her name was Regina.

Okay, I was old enough and read enough books to know Regina is as good a name as any for an evil queen, but the Regina in Once Upon a Time was my mom in almost every way. The way she dressed, talked, smiled, hated.

Reading, I just knew whoever wrote it must have based it off of our town. I found myself flipping through the pages to the end, curious if I was in it too.

What I found at the end of the story made my insides feel cold.

The Evil Queen cast a curse on the Enchanted Forest to get revenge against Snow White. She sent everyone to a "horrible" place where there were "no happy endings."

Snow White and Prince Charming were desperate for a way to save everyone, and went to The Dark One, Rumpelstiltskin, (who I still couldn't place in Storybrooke,) and asked him how to stop the curse.

Rumpelstiltskin told them the only way was to get their child, who Snow White was carrying, to safety, and in 28 years she would return and the curse would be broken.

They built a wardrobe that could save one person from the curse, and Snow White was going to go through, but started having her baby too early. Instead they were forced to put the poor little baby girl in the wardrobe alone. Prince Charming fought off multiple guards, all while carrying his daughter, to get her to the wardrobe in time, and whispered to her to find them.

_They will always find you_.

The baby princess escaped the curse, and that was the end of the book. But that wasn't what made me freeze, made me stare at the page so long my eyes watered.

The baby was named Emma.


	2. Chapter 2

**Well, I wasn't going to post this today, but I had it ready and I'm sick with spare time on my hands...so yeah, here ya go! :D **

**Couple notes here: 1, if Henry's vocabulary seems a bit advanced for a 10 year old, it's because I'm writing this as if he's telling the story to someone a few years down the line. **

**2, If anyone reading is an Evil Regal, I'm sorry to say Regina isn't going to come off very...flattering in this chapter. But Henry isn't exactly flattering himself either, so I hope I have it balanced out. :) I'm just trying to keep to how these characters behaved in the beginning of the series.**

**3, This story just went from a 3 parter to a 4 parter. Just saying.**

**Thanks to those who reviewed! It means a lot! To those who didn't...I'm sick so you should make me feel better by reviewing. :P**

* * *

**Part 2**

"_Dearie…you know I'm right," Rumpelstiltskin pleaded, reaching his long, wiry fingers through the bars, entreating the Princess. "The child…what's her name?"_

_Snow White turned to face the maniacal imp, ignoring her prince's warning look. She knew as well as any that it was unwise to break a deal with The Dark One, regardless of his imprisoned state. _

"_Emma," she breathed, letting the beloved name that she had held in her heart since the moment she learned of her child's existence leave her lips for the first time. Her prince tensed beside her, but she kept her eyes fixed on the sorcerer. "Her name is Emma."_

_Rumpelstiltskin smiled, his eyes gleaming. "Emma…" _

Emma.

It couldn't be, right? It was just a story. And there are probably tons of girls named Emma.

But how could everyone in the book be just like people from my town? And no one except my mom and me knew my birth mother's name...so could it just be a coincidence?

I couldn't get it out of my head. It just kept swimming around, teasing me, yelling at me.

Rumpelstiltskin said that the curse would be "time."

No one except me grew or changed, and the clock on the tower never moved.

Happy endings would be gone.

No one was really happy in Storybrooke. Snow White was without her baby or prince. She was just alone. Geppetto, or Marco, who once was given the gift of a son, now had no one.

I carried my book into class one day.

"You liking the story?" Miss Blanchard asked, smiling softly.

I hesitated, nervous of revealing my idea. "You said you read this?"

She nodded. "Mmhmm."

I opened the book, showing her the picture of Snow White. "These stories, these people, they're just like everyone in this town!"

Miss Blanchard blinked several times and shook her head. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Just look! See how Red Riding Hood looks just like Ruby? In this book it says that the Evil Queen cast a curse, sending everyone in the fairy tale world to another world. A place with no happy endings, except for hers. I know it sounds crazy, but I think that place is _here_, Miss Blanchard!"

"Henry, they...they're just _stories_."

"But what if they're not?" I insisted, terrified by my own words. If I wasn't crazy before, maybe now I really was. "This could explain everything. Why this town is on repeat, why no one ever comes or leaves."

Space Face. "People come and leave, Henry..."

"No! They don't! No one EVER comes to Storybrooke! And when they try to leave? Archie broke his leg in a car crash, Billy drove into a ditch, Tom's mom was lost in the woods for weeks..."

"That doesn't mean it has anything to do with trying to leave," she argued. "Things just happen."

"How do you know?" I felt myself getting angry, and tried hard to squash it down. "Have YOU ever left Storybrooke?"

It took a good Space Face and several seconds of silence before she could answer. "I...I don't remember...I think I must have, when I went to college. Yes, that's it! I went to college in Boston."

"What was it like?"

She shrugged it off. "It's been so long, Henry, I don't remember."

"How old are you?"

Blink. "28..."

Again, I was 10, not stupid. "That means you graduated, what, 5 or 6 years ago? I'm old enough that I can remember back then, and you were here, bumping into my mom every morning."

"I don't bump into her every morning," she argued. "And it just seems that way to you because you were so young."

Miss Blanchard was starting to get upset, and I just couldn't understand why she couldn't see what was happening. It was like she just...couldn't. Something was stopping her. The curse?

My shoulders slumped and I carefully closed the book. Miss Blanchard must have felt bad for upsetting me, which was silly because I was the one upsetting _her_, so she pulled the book back to her and smiled again.

"So tell me, let's say this town is full of characters from this book. Who am I?"

My eyes widened and I bit my lower lip. So maybe she didn't believe, but this was a start, right?

I took the book and flipped to the first story. "You're Snow White!"

Miss Blanchard giggled and examined the drawing of herself. "Really, Henry? That's so sweet. I love Snow White. Too bad I'm nothing like the one in this book."

I opened my mouth to say that it was because the curse turned her into the worst version of herself, but luckily I realized in time how bad that would have sounded to her. And besides, the book didn't actually _say _that. I figured it out on my own.

* * *

Every day I was surer and surer that the curse was _real_. I didn't play a whole lot anymore, my fun coming from sitting in my castle for hours trying to figure out who was who.

Mom must have noticed my preoccupation, even if she didn't know about the book that I worked hard to hide, so she increased my sessions with Archie.

I told Archie about the curse too, but not too surprisingly, he didn't believe me either.

"Why do you think we're all cursed fairy tale characters?"

"I don't _think_. I know." I insisted stubbornly.

Archie nodded, not arguing. "I suppose it would explain to you why the town doesn't age."

I knew he didn't actually believe that, either, but I played along. "It makes perfect sense! You're Jiminy Cricket, you just don't _remember!_"

Archie leaned forward. "Right. Now tell me, who do you think your mother is?"

I bowed my head and fiddled with Archie's umbrella. "The Evil Queen."

"Why do you think that?"

"She's in the book! She cast the curse because she hated Snow White, Miss Blanchard! You know how much my mom hates Miss Blanchard."

"I don't think she _hates_ Miss Blanchard, but that isn't for me to say," Archie sighed. "Henry, I know things with your mother haven't been going well since you found out about your adoption. But she loves you."

I didn't say anything, because more than anything I wanted it to be true. But I was starting to wonder if she really loved me at all. Can the Evil Queen actually love anyone?

* * *

Like most mornings, I followed my mom to Granny's diner for breakfast. It was actually a good day for her, she was talkative and smiling, and for the first time in a month I found myself enjoying being with her.

"Do you remember that time I decided to make you breakfast in bed for Mother's Day?" I asked.

Mom laughed - a sound I had missed. "Oh I remember all right, you nearly burned down my kitchen making bacon and I'm STILL cleaning pancake batter off the ceiling!"

I laughed too. "I thought I was going to be in huge trouble!"

"How could I be mad when you were just trying to do something nice for me? Besides, it turned out to be a nice day, didn't it? I helped you make pancakes..."

"And we drew faces on them with strawberry syrup!"

Mom grinned and put an arm around me. "That was one of my favorite days."

"Mine too. Can we make pancakes again sometime? And draw faces?"

She looked at me, as if surprised by the suggestion. "Of course, Henry. I'd like that.

We got to the diner and froze when Mom tried to open the door, only to find it locked.

"What's going on?" she mumbled, frowning.

"It's closed," I said unnecessarily, then inwardly cringed. Mom hated when anything threw off her routine.

She looked all around and in the windows; her horrified expression looking like the place had burned down, not just unexpectedly closed.

"Why the hell is it closed? It's past time to be open!"

"Maybe there's an explanation..." I said quietly, but she wasn't listening to me anymore.

"Didn't you hear?"

I jumped and my mom and I both turned to find Mr. Gold on the sidewalk behind us.

Mr. Gold was the one person in Storybrooke I was actually afraid of, though I never admitted it. But maybe afraid is a strong word...more like...intimidated.

I took a step back, so that I was behind Mom.

"Hear what?" Mom snapped. She, perhaps, was the one person in Storybrooke who _wasn't _afraid of Mr. Gold. It was something I always kind of admired about her, how she could stand tall in the face of the man who made everyone else cower.

"Mrs. Lucas had a heart attack last night," he said, sounding more like he was talking about the weather then about poor Granny.

"Is she okay?" I exclaimed, my worry for Granny overriding my fear of Mr. Gold.

"She'll be fine, lad," he said, and it dawned on me that it was the first time he'd ever addressed me directly. "She's in the hospital, Ruby is with her. The doctors say she should make a full recovery."

"Oh dear," Mom said, and I scowled at the complete lack of sympathy in her voice. "Well I'm relieved Granny is on the mend. Hopefully she'll be back in her diner soon."

Mr. Gold smirked and his voice dripped with sarcasm. "Yes, yes, it would be terrible to throw off your day any more than absolutely necessary. I'm sure you can convince the hospital staff to release her early, no one wants you to miss your breakfast."

With that he walked away, somehow looking strong and commanding even with a limp.

Mom sneered at his back. "Come on, Henry, we should go and wish Granny well."

* * *

Mom let me pick out some flowers from Mr. French and we hurried to the hospital so I wouldn't be too late for school.

Granny's hospital room was filled to the brim with flowers, balloons and cards. It seemed the whole town had already paid a visit to its favorite resident.

"Henry!" Granny exclaimed, then nodded politely to my mom. "Mayor Mills."

"These are for you," I said, feeling a tad shy, and held up the roses.

Granny's eyes lit up as if she didn't already have a room full of flowers. "Oh, thank you my boy! They're beautiful!"

"We just wanted to stop by and say we hope you're on your feet again soon," Mom said, sounding her most polite.

"Thank you, Madame Mayor," Granny said. "Don't you worry about me, I'm tough as nails."

I grinned. "I know you are, Granny!"

Granny ruffled my hair and Mom told her that she had to get me to school.

I was just deciding to ask Miss Blanchard if our class could make a giant card for Granny when I caught sight of Ruby, sitting in the waiting room by herself, wearing a red and black outfit that showed more that it hid. Used to I thought her clothes were funny, but lately I was finding it harder not to stare at her sometimes.

Breaking away from Mom, I stepped over to her. "Ruby? What's wrong?"

"This is all my fault," she said miserably, hiding her face in her hands.

"What is?"

"Granny!" she looked up on me, her face a disaster from all the piles of makeup she wore that was smeared everywhere. "I caused this!"

I fidgeted awkwardly, half-hoping my mom would come and rescue me - I had no idea how to comfort anyone - but knowing she wouldn't. "How could you cause it? She had a heart attack. Not a Ruby attack."

I hadn't meant to be funny, but Ruby burst out laughing anyway, new tears rolling down her cheeks. I walked over to the receptionist's desk and grabbed a handful of tissues to bring to her. She blew her nose and wiped at her eyes, only succeeding in smearing her eye makeup even more.

"Thanks, Henry," Ruby said, half-crying half-chuckling. "I needed that. But I'm afraid it really is my fault. I was going to leave last night..."

"Leave?" I asked. "And go where?"

She shrugged. "I just got so sick of doing the same thing every day..."

I perked up. Was she realizing the truth?

But she continued, "Every day I wake up and work at the diner, but I've always wanted _more_. So Granny and I had a fight last night about it and I started packing to go to Boston. That's when she collapsed."

I put an awkward hand on her shoulder. "It wasn't your fault, Ruby," I said. "I know you'd never mean to hurt your Granny. But she needs you now."

Ruby sighed and nodded then flinched when she caught sight of my mom behind me. Then it was like she only just realized who she was talking to. Ruby liked me, but I knew she didn't trust me. Mayor's kid and all that.

"Thank you, Henry," she said sincerely. "I better get in there."

"Henry, you're already late," Mom said impatiently.

I followed my mom out of the hospital, my mind spinning. It never failed; every time someone tried to leave Storybrooke, bad things happened.

"Henry, come on," Mom said when I started to lag behind. "I have to get to the office."

"She tried to leave," I blurted, halting in my tracks. Part of me screamed not to talk to the Evil Queen about this, but the other part of me, the part that remembered making pancakes and drawing silly faces with syrup, desperately wanted the assurance of my mom, for her to tell me the truth and insist I wasn't losing my mind. Maybe she _was _the Evil Queen, but there was good in her, I'd seen it. If she would just tell me the truth, say she was sorry for causing so much pain, I could forgive her. A cursed town wasn't such a terrible place to live so long as I knew the _truth_.

She stopped and turned to face me. "What?"

"Ruby...she tried to leave and...bad things happened. Whenever _anyone_ tries to leave Storybrooke, _bad things happen_!"

"That's ridiculous," she scoffed, rolling her eyes, the same way she did at other people, and my heart started to sink. "Granny had a heart attack because of the stress."

"What about when Archie was going to go on a trip and crashed right at the town sign? Or when Tom's mom was going to go out of town to visit her mother no one knew she had?"

"Henry..."

"Why am I the only one who changes in this town?" I screamed, my voice getting even higher pitched and panicky.

"Henry! Lower your voice!"

"No! What is going on?! Why is this town like this?! Tell me the truth, please, Mom!"

Mom stepped forward and grabbed my shoulders roughly, painfully. No one else was around, not that anyone would dare question the way Regina treated her son. But she'd never hurt me before. Ever.

"Stop it!" she snapped, shaking me slightly. "You're talking crazy!"

"I'm not crazy!" I exclaimed, fighting back the tears in my eyes. "Why can't you just tell me the truth? I'm your son!"

"There is NOTHING going on in this town!" she hissed. "And I don't EVER want to hear you talking like that again, do you understand me? NEVER!"

"What if I do?" the tears were falling then, I had no way of stopping them. "What I keep talking about it? What will you do? Lock me up?"

Something in my mom's eyes changed in that moment...darkened. Her voice lowered to a whisper, and never had I wished more that she would just scream. "That's what happens to crazy people."

It felt like my heart stopped beating. It felt like I was dropped off a tower and couldn't stop falling. I took a step back, then another, and another.

My mom's eyes widened and her face went slack. I knew she couldn't believe what she'd just said. I knew she wanted to take it back, but she couldn't. Not even the Evil Queen was capable of that.

"Henry..." she whimpered, tears forming in her own eyes. "I...I didn't..."

I bit my lip and shook my head, searching my mind for something to say that would hurt her like she hurt me. Suddenly I knew what would do the trick.

"It doesn't matter," I said, trying in vain to steady my voice. "You're not my real mother."

"Henry..."

"No! I'm going to find my _real_ mother!" I took off, dodging her arms and ran the rest of the way to school.

When I said it, I had no real intention of trying to find my mother, but when I got to school, and Miss Blanchard saw my anguished face and promptly pulled me into the hallway so she could hug me, I realized suddenly that it was exactly what I needed to do.

If my gut was right, then my mother was Snow White's daughter. The only one who could break the curse, and defeat the Evil Queen once and for all.

And then the final battle could begin.


	3. Chapter 3

**So a reader, keira-alinka has asked me if she could translate this story into Russian. I think that's awesome. :D**

**One last chapter after this one, and then I'm back to working on my sequel to Still Learning! Speaking of which, anyone have any suggestions for a name for it? I want it to be Still...something...but I can't decide what. XD Thanks for reading!**

* * *

**Part 3**

Regina didn't even try to talk to me after that. She just threw herself into her work, and Graham visited at night more often.

Meanwhile, I threw myself into finding out who my mother really was. I had a name, I had a birth certificate, I had a computer. I could find her.

"…_I will find you! I will always find you."_

I went on several websites trying to find the best way to find biological parents, and most of them pointed to a site called WhosYourMomma dot org. It was said that they were the best. Only problem? It cost almost $270, which was exactly $260 more than I had.

Getting money from Regina was out of the question. She was way too careful with her money. She'd notice in a heartbeat, and once she did, my mission was over before it began.

I also knew I couldn't just ask someone elsefor that much money. No one would be willing to help me without telling Regina. I may not have been stupid, but I was also just 10.

I spent a week coming up with and discarding ideas. It was possible to work and earn that much money, but I needed a _credit card _to pay on the website.

I sat in class, not listening to Miss Blanchard talk about photosynthesis for the hundredth time, and tapped my pencil on my desk. How could I be defeated in my search so early just because I was a kid? I was just beginning to worry that I would just have to wait until I was older when the bell rang for lunch.

"No running!" Miss Blanchard warned, not seeing me mouth the words along with her.

Today was one of the days Miss Blanchard actually made it out of the room with the rest of the class, so when I realized I had forgotten my lunchbox, I ducked back into the classroom alone.

"Be right there, Miss Blanchard!" I called over my shoulder.

I pulled my lunchbox out of my backpack, and my eyes caught sight of Miss Blanchard's purse. She'd left it sitting on her desk.

I froze. Did I dare? The answer to my problem was right there in front of me. I just had to take it.

"No," I muttered to myself. "I'm not a thief."

But if I was right, and my mother was the Savior, then she was also Mary Margaret's daughter. If I did this, if I succeeded, they'd be reunited.

I shook my head. No rationalizing. Stealing was wrong. End of story.

But Snow White met her Prince Charming when she stole from him...

I dropped my lunchbox on my desk and darted over to the purse, looking over my shoulder the whole time. I opened her wallet and found several cards. There was her driver's license, a bank card...

"Ha!" I pulled out a blue card that had the name of a credit company on it. I'd been doing research. I knew.

I pocketed the credit card and closed the wallet and purse back up, arranging it so hopefully it didn't look like it had been disturbed.

Now I could only hope that Miss Blanchard wouldn't notice that her card was missing until after I used it to pay for the website. Guilt twisted in my gut, but it was far outweighed by the relief I felt that I finally had a way.

"Let Operation Bring the Savior Home begin…"

Nah, that didn't sound cool enough.

"Operation…Homing Pigeon?"

Ew, no way.

"Operation…Shark."

There we go.

* * *

The faceless people who ran Who's Your Momma were pretty fast. There was record of my birth in Phoenix, and they traced the woman backward until they found records of her in the foster system.

My heart ached a little when I saw how many addresses Emma had growing up. Yeah, so I was adopted, but at least I'd gotten to stay in one home my whole life.

If the fact that Emma Swan was found abandoned on the side of the freeway when she was only hours old, not too far away from _Storybrooke _wasn't enough to seal it in my mind who she really was, her birthdate totally did.

Emma Swan was going to be 28 years old in _three days_.

My heart started to feel like it was going to hammer itself out of my chest. I just kept thinking, is this real? Can this really be happening?

It couldn't be a coincidence. It was just too clear, too perfect to be a coincidence. And honestly, I was starting to doubt the existence of coincidences altogether.

What if I was wrong? What if I really was crazy and all of this was going to do nothing but get me locked up?

Fear wracked my body. My short life in Storybrooke was swimming in my mind. All the things I'd always wondered about. The things that could just so easily be explained because of my book.

"I'm not crazy," I muttered to myself, ignoring the fact that muttering to myself was in itself a kind of crazy thing to do.

I couldn't be wrong. I _couldn't_. The curse was real, and _my mother_ could break it. She _had _to. Her 28th birthday was coming.

So...what happened when she did? Would she just show up in Storybrooke herself?

But no...no one came to Storybrooke. Ever. Was it enough to sit back and hope it worked out?

I had to go out and find her. Get her to come here. But how?

* * *

I walked into class the next morning contritely, positive that Miss Blanchard had noticed her missing card by then. But as the day wore on, and she made no comment about it, didn't even look anything other than like her usual sunny self, I decided that at least right then, I was safe.

I approached her desk after school, the card burning a hole in my pocket.

"Miss Blanchard, can I ask you something?"

"Of course, Henry," she replied brightly. "You can ask me anything."

I sighed deeply and shoved my hands into my pockets, fingering the card and preparing an apology when I returned it.

"What would you do...if there was something you felt like you needed to do...but it was something you were really scared of? Something that someone might get mad at you for and you might not know how it will turn out but..." I sighed again. "Something you know in your heart is right. Would you do it?"

Miss Blanchard furrowed her brow, as if searching for just the right words, then motioned me to stand beside her chair.

I went behind the desk and let her take my hands in hers, wondering, not for the first time, if this woman could be my grandmother.

"You know something? You, Henry, are braver than I could ever hope to be. I can't honestly tell you that I would do it...but that's because I'm not brave. I may let my fear win, and I would probably regret it later," she smiled. "But you? You have courage to spare. I know you, Henry, and I know you always do what's right."

I winced slightly at that, the card in my pocket suddenly very heavy. "I think you're braver than you think you are," I told her. "I think there's someone inside you. A fighter."

She chuckled in a self-depreciating way. "Like Snow White. Know what? I believe that you really think that. I only wish that if I ever really needed to be courageous, I could be who you think I am. But this isn't about me. This something...is it dangerous or something that your mother wouldn't approve of?"

Of course she'd ask _that_. I decided to fudge the truth a little. If I told her what I was planning to do, she'd never let me, and everything would be ruined. "Not dangerous..." I fibbed, though I truly had no clue how dangerous my idea _could_ be. "But I can't say my mom would be...thrilled."

Miss Blanchard looked conflicted, and I held my breath. "If you...if it's really something you feel is right, Henry, don't let _fear_ be what stops you."

I smiled, feeling more certain than ever. I didn't return the card right then, feeling as though I may need it for what I intended to do, and thanked my teacher.

* * *

I spent the whole next day after school ignoring my chores and studies and planning Operation Shark. I would go to where the website told me Emma Swan currently lived...in Boston, Massachusetts...and bring her home, to Storybrooke. No matter what it took.

The first problem, and the biggest, was the fact that busses in Storybrooke didn't really happen. There were no cabs, none that left town anyway, and no one could leave.

And that brought me to my second problem. Could _I _even leave?

Regina had never taken me from Storybrooke, and all I knew was when anyone tried to leave, bad things happened. But I wasn't _born _in Storybrooke, not to mention I was only 10, so I couldn't leave without having to come back eventually, so maybe the curse would let me go?

Miss Blanchard said not to let fear stop me. And she was right. I had to get Emma to Storybrooke...her birthday was the next day.

A search on Google showed me that the nearest bus station was _miles _away. I didn't even know how long it would take me to bike there. But what other choice did I have? In my book, Snow White and Prince Charming took journeys that took _days _to complete. On foot. With armies chasing them.

I could do this. I _had _to do this.

I packed my backpack with everything I thought I needed, including my toothbrush. Regina's voice echoed in my mind, reminding me to brush. I stuffed a bunch of candy bars inside, a flashlight, my pocket knife, and left plenty of room for my book.

The Greyhound website said the bus to Boston, a trip that should take four and a half hours with two stops in between, left the station 3:00 the next afternoon. That meant I had 8 hours to get there after my mom left for work.

I put myself to bed early. I was in for a long day.

* * *

"Henry?" Regina called, opening the door to my room. "Henry, it's late! You're going to be late for school."

I moaned, rolling over. "I don't feel so good."

She came in and sat beside me on the bed, feeling my forehead. "Well, you don't feel warm. What's the matter?"

"My throat hurts," I lied. "And my head."

I'd hardly ever been sick, and even when I was she usually had to force me to stay home from school, so I knew she probably wouldn't question me.

"Hmm. I suppose I should stay home with you..."

"No!" I said...way too quickly. "I'll be okay. I just want to sleep."

Regina looked uncertain, but just as I'd hoped, her love of her mayor-ness won out and she told me to stay in bed and call her if I needed her. I was half-amazed that she bought it, but I supposed she believed what she wanted to.

I forced myself to lie in bed a full 20 minutes after she'd left before leaping up and throwing on my clothes. I grabbed my backpack, double-checked that I had the credit card and everything I needed, and went to the garage to get my rarely used bike.

I walked my bike in back-alleys and through backyards so no one would notice me going away from the school.

I was forced to creep carefully behind Mr. Gold's shop, and nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard his voice right behind me.

"Isn't school the other way?" he asked, leaning with both hands on his cane and a smirk on his face.

"Uh...um..." I stammered. "Yeah...I..."

Mr. Gold chuckled, but not in the scary way he laughed at people who owed him money.

"Are you going to tell my mom?"

The look he gave me couldn't be described as anything but co-conspirator like. It was somewhat unnerving. "She won't hear it from me, lad. Now off with you, the sheriff will be passing by on his rounds soon."

Needing no other warning, I took off, running as fast as I could until the busy part of town was behind me and I hopped on my bike.

After a short-cut through the woods, I found myself at the town line before I was quite ready for it.

I peddled right to the sign and stopped, unable to go on.

I'd made it this far...it was farther than most others who attempted before something happened. But it was almost like there was an invisible wall there, one I knew that once I passed it, there was no turning back.

I looked back, down the long road that led home. Did I really dare to do this? Maybe I should just go home...go to school...live my weird life in Storybrooke where only I would ever grow old.

And somewhere, my mother would never find her _real _family or know who she really is.

"I can't let fear keep me here," I told myself. "Snow White would be brave. Prince Charming would be brave."

I closed my eyes, and pictured myself as a knight, wielding a sword and shield, or maybe a bow and arrow. I imagined myself, as I often did, defeating a fire-breathing dragon and saving my people.

This was my dragon...and it was up to me to find the Savior. To save my people.

I took a deep breath, braced my foot against the pedal and pushed forward.

When I passed the sign I felt a pull, then a release, and I knew I was free.


	4. Chapter 4

**Last chapter! Thanks to those who read and reviewed! I'm quite pleased with how this turned out. Coming up here is a surprise cameo and my OTP...HENRYBON! Enjoy!**

* * *

**Part 4**

For hours I rode, becoming more and more bored of the endless forest scenery. For I while I was regretting my decision for the sole reasons that I was bored and tired. So tired.

I tried to keep track of the miles on my phone, but it felt like I was barely making any progress. Only the odd passing car and occasional farmhouse assured me that I wasn't stuck in an endless forest and there _was _in fact life outside Storybrooke.

As time wore on, I worried that I would miss my bus. What if I didn't reach the Savior on her birthday? Did that part matter?

The worst part was, if I didn't get to Emma that night, Regina would find a way to send someone after me. This was my only chance.

A truck pulling a trailer full of hay pulled out onto the highway behind me. As is came to pass me, I had an idea.

I waited until it had passed, then sped up, peddling as fast as my legs could go. The old truck hadn't picked up much speed yet, so I caught up easily enough.

I peddled behind the trailer, coming up off my seat. I reached out for the railing, nearly falling several times.

After many tries, I grabbed hold of the edge of the trailer and pushed with my tired legs as hard as I could, kicking my bike away and pulling myself up into the trailer.

I rolled into the hay, breathing a massive sigh of relief, and watched my bike tumble down the street. In the back of my mind, I heard Regina yelling at me for losing my expensive mountain bike, and for a minute I felt guilty, but I shook it off. Sacrifices had to be made. It was for the good of Operation Shark.

* * *

I dozed off, buried in hay, and awoke to the sun bright in my face. The truck was slowing to a stop at a traffic light.

I sat up and looked around, finding myself in a small town. Except this town wasn't at all like mine.

Within my immediate eyesight I found a McDonald's, a Pizza Hut, and a Wal-Mart. Things I'd only heard about and seen on TV, but never been to myself.

I jumped out of the trailer, ignoring the look the girl in the car behind it gave me, and ran out of the street.

It wasn't a particularly crowded place, but I was blown away by the sheer _differentness _of it. But instead of frightening me, it thrilled me.

My stomach growled noisily, and I excitedly wondered which of the unhealthy fast-food joints I should try. My mind was made up for me when I caught sight of something I never hoped to see.

A Cinnabon.

As if in a trance, I gravitated toward the small establishment. The smell inside made my mouth water, and I hurried to the counter to order one...no two, Cinnabons to go.

"Can you tell me where the Greyhound station is?" I asked the cashier.

"Sure," the bored-looking guy replied. "Just turn right outside and keep going till you hit Elm. Make a left and it's half a mile on your right."

Nodding, I paid for my cinnamon rolls and trotted out.

My first bite of my first Cinnabon was nothing short of heaven. Granny made some delicious cinnamon rolls, but nothing compared to this. Not that I'd ever let Granny know that. I wondered if maybe once the curse broke, if a Cinnabon could be built in Storybrooke.

And the slight queasiness I felt with a stomach full of nothing but sugar was worth it.

I got to the bus station at 3:15. Barely time to spare. Waiting on the bench gave me time to absorb the fact that I was away from Storybrooke for the first time _ever_. And not just that, but I was in a strange town. Alone.

The nerves that kept threatening to paralyze me sprouted up, and I fidgeted anxiously.

"Hey," a skinny, dirty-looking man sat beside me. "What are you doing out here all by yourself?"

"Going to Boston to see my mom," I said. Well, it was true.

"Ah," he nodded. "By yourself?"

I scooted away. This guy made me uncomfortable, but not in the way Mr. Gold did. This was worse.

"Um, well, my dad is with me, he went to go get us something to drink."

"Did he now?" the guy was smiling at me in a creepy way, like he knew I was lying.

"Yeah," suddenly I would have much preferred the company of Mr. Gold.

"Ah, I hate busses. I'm on my way to Boston, too, but if I drive alone I'm afraid I'll doze off. You want to just ride with me? You can keep me awake and we won't have to worry about stopping."

I shook my head. "N...no. No, my dad and I are taking the bus," right then I wanted to be home. I wanted to be in my bed, or in school with Miss Blanchard. I wanted my mom.

He reached out and grabbed my arm. "Ah, come on..."

Panicking, I yanked my arm back. "Dad!" I yelled, my voice cracking, not knowing what else to do. I looked around and zeroed in on a man with a briefcase. "Dad!"

The man with the briefcase looked up, and with a concerned expression, started making his way toward us.

Just like that, the weird guy released my arm, rushed out an apology, and took off.

"You okay, kid?" Briefcase man asked. "Was that guy bothering you?"

I took several shuttering breaths, and glanced up at him. "Uh, he was just...creeping me out, I guess. I'm okay."

"Are you by yourself?"

"No!" I exclaimed. "My dad just wasn't around...I..."

"Easy kid," he said, holding up his hands, but I didn't quite look at him in the face. "It's okay. Did he hurt you? Should I call the police?"

Police?! Oh no. "No, really, I'm fine. He didn't hurt me."

"Okay, okay. Where are you headed?"

This guy didn't scare me, but I didn't want him paying too much attention to me, in case he decided to call the police after all.

"Boston. To see my mom."

"Oh, okay, well I'm headed on a different bus to New York, but let me sit here with you till your bus comes, okay?"

I nodded, still not really looking at him, and let him sit beside me on the bench, feeling much better. I had no idea what that man could have wanted with me, but it scared me. Aside from being intimidated by Mr. Gold, I'd never had to actually fear anyone before.

The man made some friendly small talk, and introduced himself, not saying anything when I didn't give him my name in return. My bus came not long later and he watched me board, mentioning to the driver that I was an "unaccompanied minor."

"See ya, kid!" he called. "Be careful, okay?"

I looked out the window as the bus pulled away, trying to actually look at his face, but I couldn't catch a good look.

"Bye!" I shouted out the window, waving. "Thanks, Neal!"

* * *

Since the bus driver knew that I was alone, I felt him keeping an eye on me during our stops. My encounter with that creepy man had shaken me, but the closer I got to Boston the braver I felt. A woman who was on the bus with me kind of adopted me, sharing her snacks and telling me how I looked just like her grandson.

As the sun set, I pulled out my book, turning to the end where baby Emma is put into the wardrobe. I ran my fingers over the baby blanket where her name was stitched into the fabric.

"That a good book?" the nice woman asked me.

"This? It's more than _just _a book," I responded, kind of proudly. And it was, it was so much more than that.

"Oh," She chuckled at me, mumbling something about how cute I was.

I looked out the window as we passed a "Welcome to Boston" sign.

Almost there.

* * *

Boston was unlike anything I'd ever seen or imagined. There were so many _lights, _making it as bright as day despite the fact the sun was down. And there were so many _people_ of all types, and endless cars honking at each other. It was almost too much to take in.

When I got off the bus, I wrinkled my nose at the strange, metallic smell in the air, coughing when a cloud of smog from the busses hit my face.

"I don't think I'm not in Storybrooke anymore," I mumbled.

The nice woman offered to wait with me for my mom, but I lied and told her our apartment was just right over there.

I walked down the busy sidewalk, trying not to get disoriented by the mass of people. And not just people, people I didn't know. I had no idea how being around so many strangers after a life of seeing the exact same people every day could be such a shock to the system.

After the initial shock wore off though, I found myself enjoying the sights. The...newness from what I was used to.

There was a man on the street corner, painted silver from head to toe, and he was break-dancing! I stood a moment and watched him, laughing. Without making any kind of facial expression, he reached out for my hand and pulled me forward and into the dance.

I copied his movements as best I could, while the gathered crowd clapped and went "aww."

The silver guy pushed me on my way with a ruffle of my hair while several people told me how well I'd done, and one woman even pressed a couple dollar bills into my hand.

I moved along, but tried not to get sucked in to any more sights. It was almost 8, and I had a mission.

A yellow taxi was parked at the curb, its driver flipping through a paper. I pulled Emma's address out of my pocket along with Miss Blanchard's card, then knocked on the window.

"Do you take credit cards?" I asked, holding the card up.

The big, cheerful looking man grinned. "Where to, chief?"

I hopped into the backseat and handed him the address. "That's not too far," he said and pulled into the road. "Visiting a relative?"

"Uh huh," I replied, then couldn't keep in my excitement any longer. I hadn't told _anyone _what I was doing, and it was killing me. "My mom. I'm meeting my mom...for the first time."

In the rear-view mirror, I watched the taxi-driver, whose name was Sam, shoot his eyebrows up. "No kidding? Wow. You must be excited. Bet she is too."

"I hope she will be..."

I watched the town zoom by. What would Emma look like? Was she pretty? I just knew she would be. Miss Blanchard was the prettiest girl in town. Her daughter must be even prettier. What would she say when she met me? Would she believe me about the curse? She was the Savior! She had to believe!

"You nervous?" Sam asked.

"Kinda," I said. "But fear won't stop me."

Sam smiled at me through the mirror. "Good. I'm sure everything will work out how it's supposed to."

I smiled in return and looked up in surprise when he slowed to a stop.

"Here we are, chief"

"We're here?" I asked, and looked up at the tall building.

Sam handed me back the paper with her apartment number on it. "Yep, this is it. You gonna be okay?"

I took a breath through my nose and nodded, handing him the credit card. "Yeah. I will be."

After giving back the card, Sam wished me good luck and waited until I got into the building before pulling away.

There was a security guard at the desk that stopped me, but when I told him I was going up to see my mom, he let me by without another word.

I couldn't stop from bouncing on the balls of my feet on my way up the elevator. What if this wasn't the right address? What if she wasn't home? What if she…no, she wouldn't turn me away. She must have had good reasons for giving me away. Just like _her _parents had good reasons for giving _her _away.

The elevator doors opened to a long hallway lined with brightly painted doors. I smiled at them in passing, having never expected such a fun-looking place.

When I reached the door that matched the number on my piece of paper...not that I needed the paper, I had the number memorized, 205,I paused and stared at the door painted with scribbled writing.

This was it. I'd made it. The curse was going to break. Good would win. Regina would lose.

_Don't let fear be what stops you_.

Heart in throat, I raised my hand to knock on the door. I had to wait a moment, shuffling nervously.

After what felt like eternity, the door finally opened, revealing the single most beautiful person I'd ever seen in my entire life. She had long, golden hair, big eyes that matched Miss Blanchard's, and was wearing a bright red dress.

She was…well, in my eyes at least, the fairest of them all.

For a split second she just looked over my head, obviously never expecting a kid to be at her door. Finally she looked down, and her brow furrowed in confusion.

"Uh...can I help you?"

I swallowed. This was it. "Are you Emma Swan?" I was anxious for her answer, but I knew the truth the moment I laid eyes on her.

"Yeah...who are you?"

I smiled up at my mother. The daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming. The Savior. I had so much to tell her, starting with...

"My name's Henry. I'm your son."


End file.
